Fruits of Paradise
by luvscharlie
Summary: Ron and Lavender sample a special passion fruit in their own enchanted paradise found. Ron Weasley/Lavender Brown


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Fruits of Paradise

by Luvscharlie

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_"Love is a fruit in season at all times…."_- Mother Teresa

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"Ron, I'm home. Where are you? You won't believe what that witch made me do this time."

Lavender turned to close the door to their flat, but Ron came up behind her and shoved it closed, using his body to pin her against it.

"Ron, what are you—" Lavender let out a squeal when his arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her hard against him.

His breath tickled her ear. "I didn't think you were ever going to get here. I've been waiting an eternity, y'know?"

His words reminded her just how terrible her day had been. She should have known better than to take a job working beneath Hermione Granger. The two of them had been like oil and water during their days at Hogwarts, and Lavender's marriage to Ron had done little to endear her to Hermione. The witch simply hated her. "I would have been home hours ago if your _friend_ hadn't made my day so difficult!"

"It's our anniversary, Lavender. No work talk tonight," Ron whispered. "Come on, I have plans for us and we're already running behind schedule."

"Schedule? Since when do you operate on a schedule?"

"Since now."

She felt something brush her calf, but paid it little notice as her husband's lips grazed the sensitive spot behind her left ear. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to invite more of his attention when a sharp pain shot up her leg and caused her to cry out. "What the—"

"Shoo. Get on with you," Ron said sternly.

Lavender turned to see a large purple carpet gliding from the room, knocking things over on its way out.

"Sorry 'bout that. It's prone to throwing fits when it doesn't get the attention it seems to think it deserves."

Lavender was certain her eyes must have been twice their normal size and for a moment, no matter how she tried, the words simply would not form on her lips. "What the—What are you—I mean—"

"What _do_ you mean, love? You seem to be having a difficult time talking today." Ron's voice was patronising, and she found it annoying. In response, she thumped him soundly on the back of the head.

"It's illegal to have one of those," she said, indicating the carpet with a tilt of her head, "and you bloody well know it!"

"Alas, my love, sometimes 'tis necessary to break a few rules to make my wife's first anniversary one that is unforgettable. Now, if you don't mind, we'll just—"

"I mind!" she said, refusing to take the hand he held out to her. "Oh, I can read the headlines now. _'Head of Auror Department Caught on Illegal Flying Carpet'_. The _Daily Prophet_ will have a field day with that. No sir, I will not be a party to your illegal activities."

"Yeah, I thought you might take that position," Ron said. She noted that his tone was still upbeat which gave her cause for alarm. He whistled and her concerns were realised. The carpet came speeding through the living room and struck her sharply behind the knees, knocking her off balance and causing her to fall backwards onto it. Ron climbed onboard beside her and patted the carpet once with his palm. "Oi! A bit gentler next time, if ya don't mind." He reached for Lavender's leg and rubbed the spot where the carpet had just struck her.

"Ron, you're talking to this—this rug as if it were human."

At her words, the carpet bristled and bucked wildly.

"Whoa, whoa!" Ron petted it, and it ceased its thrashing and emitted an audible purr, though from whence it came, she could not tell. He held a finger to his lips in warning that she shouldn't speak disparagingly of the carpet again. "It's a bit sensitive," he whispered.

The expression on her face must have conveyed the question foremost in her mind. Ron's cheeks reddened, and he did not meet her eyes when answering. "Whoever enchanted it bumbled the spell, and it's developed some human traits. And, well… it fancies me a bit." The red colour staining his cheeks deepened a shade.

"It attacked me, Ron. I think it fancies you more than 'a bit.' Should I be jealous? Perhaps you would rather be married to it." Lavender attempted, unsuccessfully, to stifle a snigger behind her hand.

"Oi, woman! Come here." Ron pulled her close to him, resting his hand on the small of her back and rubbing circles there. He patted the carpet once to indicate it could commence with their trip.

As the carpet exited their flat and began its assent, Lavender rested her head on her husband's shoulder. The night air was cool against her skin, and she snuggled closer into the warmth of his neck as they rose to meet the sparkling stars winking down at them.

She tilted her head and breathed in the freshness of the night and the familiar scent of the man sitting at her side. She pressed her lips to his and licked and nibbled her way up his jaw line, stopping only because the carpet dipped suddenly in jealous protest. The pressure from Ron's hand holding her to him tightened in response to the sudden movement. He groaned in approval when Lavender stroked her hand up his thigh, and he tangled his hand in her hair and tilted her head back. His lips touched hers, softly at first, and then with increasing pressure. His tongue parted her lips and dipped inside to explore her mouth. She welcomed his tongue's intrusion by kissing him back with equal fervor.

"Are you enjoying the ride?" He whispered the question in her ear. She nodded that she was, but attempted to pull his mouth back down to her for more snogging. "You have a one track mind, Wife."

"Are you only just discovering that?"

If his expression was any indication, the sarcastic intent of her words had not escaped his notice. "No, I discovered how irresistible I am to you long ago."

He reached into the pocket of his robe, pulled out his wand and leaned forward as if to kiss her again. She closed her eyes eager to feel his lips on hers once more. Instead, she heard him whisper, "_Obscuro_."

The silken feel of a blindfold covered her eyes. "Ron! What in Merlin's name are you playing at?"

"I don't want you to see where I'm taking you. It's a surprise."

While she had to admit the carpet made for a smooth flight, and she far preferred it to riding a broom, there was something terribly disconcerting about flying when you were unable to see where you were going. She wound her arms instinctively around his neck.

It seemed that only a few moments passed before she felt the carpet slow to a stop. Ron's lips touched the shell of her ear and he whispered into it, "Are you ready, love?"

Before she could answer, he removed the blindfold and her breath caught in her throat. The full moon shone like a spotlight illuminating the forest and waterfall below them. The waterfall emptied into a pool of sorts, and its surface looked like that of the hand mirror on her dressing table at home. The water was still and reflected the image of the summer night sky back at them. She watched with wonder-filled eyes as the carpet began its slow descent, and a unicorn came to drink from the pond.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ron asked, offering a hand and assisting her from the carpet which now hovered only slightly above the ground.

She had to cover her mouth to keep from squealing aloud when a golden-coloured baby, its horn little more than a bump on its head, peeked out from behind a bush. She pointed to direct her husband's gaze.

"Charlie said there's several in this part of the forest, and they sometimes come here to drink." He pulled a ripened Plangentine from the pocket of his robe and placed it in her palm. "Here. According to my brother, they love these. They're much more trusting of females, so I'll stay back. See if it will come to you."

She grinned at him. "I guess you did pay attention in Care of Magical Creatures Class on occasion."

He winked at her. "It wasn't like I had a choice. I had to be on my toes in that class or risk leaving it with fewer body parts than I had when I entered, didn't I?"

She nodded her agreement and turned toward the creatures not far from them. The mother was breathtaking in her pure-white, ethereal beauty. She was even more beautiful when the moonlight shone down upon her, and turned her coat a shimmering silver colour. She watched Lavender with cautious interest, but did not approach to take the offered fruit.

The baby, however, lacked its mother's self-control. Its ears perked immediately and it raised its nose to sniff the air when Lavender approached. She stopped a few feet from it and knelt down to appear less intimidating. Her actions proved unnecessary. The little pony approached her at a trot, eager to relieve her of the fruit in her hand. It allowed her to pat its head as it ate. Its mother paced nervously when Ron approached and held out another Plangentine to the baby unicorn. The mother turned and ran into the shelter of the thick trees that skirted the edge of the clearing. She brayed loudly and the small, golden pony turned reluctantly from where Ron was scratching behind its ears and trotted off into the trees in the direction of its mother's cries.

"Ron, where did you get the Plangentine? It's not usually easy to come by."

"Neither are carpets enchanted with the ability to fly or mystical forests filled with magical creatures. One day, my love, you'll realise what a catch I am." She laughed at his attempt to sound chuffed, and his laughter followed suit.

"I am a lucky, lucky girl. My handsome husband is quite the catch."

He turned to her and grinned, reached into his pocket and removed a trunk the size of a Sickle. He tapped it with his wand and it expanded to normal size. "We wizards know how to pack, do we not?" he asked. He threw back the trunk lid and removed a colourful quilt. She grabbed the other end and helped him spread it on the ground, then went to the trunk to help him unpack the rest of its contents. She was surprised by how much he had brought. Ron was not, by nature, a planner. He was the more spontaneous of the two of them, and she smiled when she noted the overflowing picnic basket and an ice-filled bucket, complete with a large, corked bottle of expensive champagne and delicate, crystal goblets.

"How did you manage to keep things from breaking or getting tossed about on the trip?"

"A few well placed charms work wonders for packing," he replied. "Besides, I can't tell you all of my secrets. You'll tire of me."

"I could never tire of you. Did you remember our swimming suits? The water looks incredibly inviting."

The lush grass masked the sound of his footsteps, and she startled when she turned to find him so close behind her. "You don't really think I brought you to a forest with a beautiful waterfall and an inviting reflecting pool and didn't plan to swim with you, did you?"

She tilted her head and grinned back at him. "So where are they?"

"Where are what?" He pulled her to him and kissed his way up her neck, seeming to give special attention to the areas that he knew were the most sensitive… _and oh, did he ever know her… far, far too well._

She shook her head in an attempt to gain clarity and gave a disgusted snort. "The swimming suits."

"At home, I suppose."

"But you just said—"

"I said I planned to swim with you. I never said anything about allowing you to wear clothes when we swim, now did I?"

Before she could reply he unfastened her robe and shoved it from her shoulders. In mere seconds, it pooled at her feet, and she stood before him in only her bra and knickers. She removed the rest of her clothing and walked slowly into the cold-as-ice water feeling the heat of his stare on her back. She stopped when she was waist-deep and turned back toward him. Their eyes met for a moment, and then he pulled his shirt over his head.

"What's taking you so long there, Weasley?" she asked.

"The scenery's not the only view stealing my breath tonight."

"Mm. So tell me, sir, did you like what you saw?"

He dove in, cutting the mirror-like surface of the water with ripples that seemed to shake the very stars reflected there loose from the sky. He surfaced inches from her with moonlight catching the water drops on his skin and hair and making them glisten like crystal jewels adorning his broad shoulders and catching on the strands of his wet hair. "I did. How's the view from where you're standing, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Oh, I like it very much," she said. He made to grab for her, but she anticipated his move and swam away before he could reach her.

"Come here, you," Ron called after her.

His Auror training served him well. He was too fit for her to out-swim very long, and he caught her up quickly and dunked her beneath the water. He pulled her tight against him when she surfaced spluttering and squealing. She grasped his shoulders—shoulders that had broadened and filled out over the years in which they had known one another—and used them to hoist herself up to his level and kiss him soundly.

When they broke apart, he brushed his knuckles down her jaw and cupped her chin with his fingers. Her teeth clicked noisily together. "Come on, let's get out of here. Your lips are turning blue and your teeth are chattering. Let me warm you up?" He cocked an eyebrow at her quizzically.

"Mmm, I like the sound of that. Ron, do you have any Plangentine left?"

"Yeah. I got several from Neville. Why?"

"Did Neville happen to tell you _why_ they are so hard to come by?"

"No." He pulled her down beside him on the quilt they had spread out together earlier, and reached for a folded blanket she had not noticed prior. He pulled out his wand and cast an _Engorgio_ spell on it. It grew to four times its present size and he wrapped them both snuggly in it together. "I suppose you're going to tell me."

He reached into the basket, pulled out one of the fruits and pressed it to her lips. She bit it in half and pushed the rest back at him, indicating he should eat it. He did and made a horrible face. "It's sour."

"They're supposed to have strong aphrodisiacal qualities. They're said to increase arousal and heighten each and every one of your senses."

"I don't think we need that, love," he said, slipping his hand beneath the blanket they shared and stroking a finger along her hip. "I want you all the time as it is." He reached for another piece of fruit and bit into it, then held it inches from her mouth, dripping the fruit's juices onto her as he traced it back and forth across her lips. Her tongue darted out to catch it, but he shook his head stopping her. His lips came down on hers sucking the juices from her skin and licking up the small bit that trickled down her chin.

Ron pulled the blanket from around them and continued working his way down her body. The feel of his tongue dancing over her skin set her body afire with want for him. She arched her back when he squeezed the fruit above her breasts and dripped its juices onto her. He lapped up the sticky juice eagerly, swirling his tongue around her nipple and causing her to groan and pull his head more tightly to her.

"Lavender," he whispered. "I know I brought all of this stuff to have a moonlight picnic with you, and champagne, and I really wanted it to be perfect, but I think you may be right about those fruits. I want you now, baby, I don't think I can wait."

She, too, was feeling the effects of the fruit. She had only eaten the small bit, but every nerve ending in her body was singing in anticipation of his touch. "I want you too." His lips brushed lightly over the shell of her ear, and he gently cupped her face. Her eyes met his, and she moaned under the intensity of his stare. "Oh, how I want you, Ron." She held him close, and he settled himself atop her. Lavender wrapped her legs around his waist and arched up grinding her hips against him and encouraging him to enter her. "Please, baby," she begged, "I need to feel you inside me." Her body temperature had risen by several degrees in a matter of minutes, and she was hyper-sensitive to the feel his hands were evoking in her. She felt each touch as though it were fire burning her skin and bringing it roaring to life. His lips on her body were their own kind of exquisite torture.

He brushed the wet hair from her face and kissed her deeply as he entered her. She moaned with each thrust forward and whimpered every time he retreated from her body. She wanted—needed him as close to her as possible and wrapped her legs tightly around him refusing to let him move as he wanted.

Ron rolled to his back allowing her the freedom to take control and ride him. She hesitated not in the slightest engulfing him in the tight heat of her body. Lavender reveled in each and every sigh and groan that escaped his lips when she increased the pace of her rocking hips. Ron smiled up at her through half-lidded eyes and pressed his thumb against her clit. The effects of the Plangentine were more pronounced when he moved his thumb even the slightest bit. The sensations were a mixture of pleasure and pain, and it was difficult to discern which was more prominent; perhaps the pleasure was so intense it caused her pain. She had never felt anything so powerful. She rewarded his attentive ministrations by arching her back in a way that pushed her breasts forward and emphasized their fullness. She rolled her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, in just the way he liked for her to do it. She knew how much this typically turned him on. This time was no exception if the stream of expletives intermingled with endearments spilling from his lips were an indication of how much he appreciated the sight of her touching herself.

Lavender never slowed the rocking of her hips as she slid her hand over her breast and down her stomach before sliding it between them and placing it atop his own, to control the way he touched her and heighten her pleasure. She closed her eyes and licked her lips slowly as she guided his fingers in a circular motion that matched the movement of her hips. She heard him groan and knew he was watching her and enjoying the show she was giving him. Her tongue made a second slow pass over her bottom lip, and she intentionally prolonged dragging it across her teeth and wetting her lips. She pulled her plump bottom lip into a pout, which she knew drove him wild, and saw him swallow hard. His thumb on her clit was unmerciful, and he increased the pressure until it was almost unbearable. She felt the intensity of her orgasm building beneath his thumb at her centre…and then it was gone. She whimpered in frustration and begged him not to stop.

He motioned for her to lean forward, and she complied. He pulled her in for a searing kiss.

"I love you," she whispered when they broke apart.

It was evident that he had lost all semblance of restraint when he flipped her onto her back. He pinched and suckled until her nipples were sharp points, and she was writhing beneath him, pleading for his touch. He seemed more than ready to oblige her. "Love you, too," he gasped as he set the rhythm for their lovemaking.

Admittedly, her husband was not an articulate individual under the best of circumstances. In fact, in social settings he often found himself beset with the task of extricating his foot from his mouth. But, in times like these, Ron was most proficient. He never failed to tell her she was beautiful. He expressed with relative ease how lucky he felt to be married to her, and the way in which he touched her, as though she were a prize to be cherished, was a testament to his feelings for her.

"So beautiful," he whispered, as his hand stroked her face then slipped between them and resumed touching and teasing her.

She purred her appreciation in his ear.

"You're even prettier with the moonlight on your skin, baby."

His words alone were enough to bring her to climax. His words coupled with the feel of him moving inside her brought her to the point of no return in a matter of moments, and she came with mind shattering force, the waves of pleasure so intense that her cries of ecstasy sounded primal even to her own ears.

He must have been holding back, waiting for her to find her release, because one final thrust into her was all that was required to make him come, and his release seemed to rival hers in intensity. He gathered her against him and it was her name on his lips when he came. The magnitude of his orgasm left him spent and trembling atop her as he struggled to regain his faculties.

When his breathing finally slowed to something that resembled a normal rhythm, she shoved at his shoulder. "Sweetheart, you're a bit heavy and you're squishing me. I can't breathe."

He rolled to his side, pulling her with him in the process. "Sorry, love."

She snuggled against him, resting her head on his chest. "You're so warm," she whispered into his skin, nuzzling him with her nose and feeling his arms tighten more snugly around her as he covered them in the blanket once more.

"Ron?" she said through a yawn.

"Hm?"

"Do we have any more Plang—" a yawn stole the words from her throat-- "Plangentine?"

"Yeah. Why?"

She raked her nails across his chest and nipped his earlobe with her teeth. "Because there are a few things I'd like to try on that flying carpet before we return it."

He groaned his approval. "Fuck, baby, have I mentioned how bloody much I love you today?" Those were the last words she heard Ron say before she drifted off to sleep.

Fin.


End file.
